


Scratches, Fractures, Pits and Carbons

by Heartbreakmosh (PompousPickle)



Category: Pro Wrestling NOAH
Genre: Basically Kongoh are a crime family and Nakajima is There, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Minor Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:22:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28116108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PompousPickle/pseuds/Heartbreakmosh
Summary: Six known thieves, one conman loaded with secrets, a fool-proof robbery plan, and a million flaws fracturing between all of them.Or: "The Cheesy Kongoh Heist AU no one asked for"
Relationships: Shiozaki Go/Nakajima Katsuhiko
Comments: 15
Kudos: 10





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> “Better a diamond with a flaw than a pebble without.” -Confucius

“The hell are we even doing here?” Kitamiya grumbled as he took a quick bite of his cheap takeout, before returning to his binoculars. The entire area surrounding the ritzy hotel was well-lit, washed over with the lights of the surrounding city. From their station on the top floor, Masa could see almost everything in the dead of the night. And perhaps, more importantly, he could see a cop car coming from a mile away. 

“Casing the damn joint, same as always.” Soya sounded bored, shrugging as he leaned against the corner window. He squatted down, popping open a laptop and hooking it to a nearby port. Without so much as a flicker, fifteen different windows popped onto the screen, complete with the camera names and locations in the top corner. After about six seconds, another three came online. Soya clicked his tongue. “For a manic drunkard, Tadasuke knows his stuff. I’ve got eyes on the team.” 

“That’s not what I’m talking about and you know it,” Masa nearly grunted, stepping down from road-watching to turn to the surveillance footage. Within the next thirty minutes, they should have a feed of every hallway in the building. Nice, quiet, uneventful footage that could easily be spliced into any given night. Even the night of a conference of the nation’s top technology companies selling to influential investors. 

Manabu flipped through a few of the views, muttering under his breath as new windows popped up. Nioh was a back stairwell, checking each door for easy exits, and taking quick photos of each laundry and garbage chute. Past experience in burglary served him well, sliding past security stations and late night housekeepers with ease. 

Haoh was in the conference portion of the hotel, casing each ballroom and determining the most likely entry points for their person of interest. The conference was in less than a week, with a thin schedule and no map for the event. Still, Haoh was a lot smarter and quicker than people took him for, and could easily fill in the gaps to figure out exactly where everyone needed to be, and how to get out before anyone knew he was there. 

“There’s the man of the hour,” Soya finally smiled as he found Kenoh on the screen, glancing up at the camera tucked away in the hotel bar. Without a single change in his dour expression, he gave a small nod, as though knowing eyes were on him. He then looked outward, towards a blind spot in the camera’s views. 

As if on cue, Tadasuke’s voice crackled over comms. “Good eye! It’s totally covered. Can’t get visual on it at all. Dead-on as always.” You could hear the smile in his voice alone. He hadn’t joined that team all that long ago, but already he acted so familiar with the rest of Kongoh. He fit right in. Everything felt so calm, almost homey. Except for…

Out of the area where Kenoh had been looking, a man walked into view, still dressed in a dark suit despite it being nearly three in the morning. His tie had been long disposed, with his collar unbuttoned as he closed in on Kenoh, sliding his hand across the bar and leaning in to say something to him in the opposite ear of where Kenoh’s transmitter was fed through, leaving the rest of the team totally deaf. 

“ _ That’s _ what I’m fucking talking about!” Masa raised his voice without even realizing, hushing himself after he heard his own words echo against the hotel’s pristine marble halls. “What are we doing here with  _ Nakajima Katsuhiko _ ?” 

Soya simply reached over and grabbed some fries from their shared pile of rapidly cooling food, barely taking his eyes off the security feed. It was a simple arrangement: Kitamiya cased out the roadways for a quick getaway, and Soya memorized the security feed for if things got hairy. For that, they both needed a high vantage point with good reception, and a whole lot of food to keep them going through the night. 

“Guy’s a real piece of work, that’s for sure.” Manabu wasn’t going to argue that point, watching the two men on screen talk over the layout of the lobby. “But he has the plan, the marks, the ability to sell the goods, and all the info on the security detail.” 

Kenoh scoffed wordlessly on screen, before snarling out some kind of order to the conman. Nakajima only smiled, like he always did, full of endless lies and endless charm. “Besides, the Boss said he had hungry eyes.” 

Masa let out a long, irritated breath. He couldn’t argue with that, he supposed. But before his partner flipped to another window, he couldn’t help but notice that even as the man smiled, those hungry eyes of his didn’t seem to smile with the rest of him. They simply watched Kenoh carefully, as he followed behind. 

\---

“Hey!” All pretense of Kenoh’s stealth and silence dropped as soon as they were back at their rendezvous point, a hotel suite seven blocks from the venue. “Are you fuckers listening? I’m only going to say this once. Hey! Sit up straight!”

It was five in the morning. 

Kenoh didn’t seem to be any worse for wear, pulling up his own computer with a full layout of the hotel, with each camera that Tadasuke was able to procure highlighted on the screen. “Here’s the view we’ll have from the night of the gala, thanks to Tadasuke’s work. Those braindead idiots in hotel security shouldn’t notice anything out of place as we move.” 

The hacker was currently passed out at the foot of the furthest armchair against the legs of Nioh. However, a smile grew on his lips and he gave a half-present thumbs up at the mention of his name. He turned over again, falling onto Haoh’s shoulder, sitting on the floor right next to him. Haoh gently pushed him back up, wanting the other man to at least feign attention if the rest of them had to be awake. 

“Hey,” Kenoh continued, glaring over each member of his team one by one, with startling clarity and intensity. “We’re going to tear apart these pathetic social climbers and fat cats. The target’s name is Shiozaki Go.” A picture of a handsome man in a slick gray suit popped up on the screen, clearly taken from a tabloid. He smiled as he waved off the camera, talking to a blurred out associate. 

“Typical upper crust garbage. He’s the heir to ARK Enterprises, with a silver spoon stuck up his ass his whole damn life. He’s peddling some kind of new super nano-battery. Rich piece of shit thinks it’s the way of the future, all while making speeches about the legacy of the company, never realizing how stuck in the past he is. We’re going to wake him out of his delusions.” 

“He sure does talk a lot,” Nakajima added, not bothering to hide the irritation in his voice. He wasn’t talking to anyone in particular, and didn’t seem to care if Kenoh heard him at all. And Kenoh, in turn, simply pretended not to, continuing on with his rant. 

“It’s a simple vault break, at its core.” Nioh perked up a little, finally seeing his purpose in the plan. “The target travels with the goods and the blueprints with him at all times, making grand speeches about protecting the company. He’s keeping the technology for his own damn benefit.” 

Another snort from Nakajima. 

“The prototype battery is a bonus payday, and will be out at the event. It’s the blueprints that we want. He keeps them both in a safe kept separate from his own room, with armed guards. Once they're done with the demonstration, Soya will pose as security during shift change, grabbing the battery to take to the vault, bugging the entry so that Nioh can enter later.” 

Nakajima, shifted on the couch, tired of sitting still and listening. He spoke up, stirring the two larger men next to him back to consciousness. “This is where it gets tricky. The safe itself opens with both a six-digit code and a key. The code changes every seven days, but Shiozaki keeps it written down, along with the key. And he keeps it...” Katsuhiko leaned over, touching Kenoh’s screen to point at the picture of Shiozaki’s neck. “There. The key is the necklace, the code is strung underneath it. He never takes it off.” 

“You know this how?” Kitamiya grumbled, one eye open as he watched the man next to him. 

“Research. And plenty of it,” Nakajima tapped his temple, turning back to Kenoh with a wide smile on his face. Kenoh only watched him carefully, expression unreadable before nodding. “I’ll stick to the security sector with the big guy, Kenoh will take to the floor, get the necklace, hand it off to the two thieves posing as waiters, and leave via the blind spot in the lobby.” 

“From there, you fuckers know what to do,” Kenoh finally chimed in. “Nioh cracks the safe, hands the goods off to Haoh, who will slip it into the trash chute on the marked corridor, and then take stairwell #7 to meet with Tadasuke, Nioh and Soya in the surveillance van. Same shit, different venue.” 

Nakajima, not wanting to be left by the wayside, continued, not missing the way Kenoh’s eye twitched when he cleared his throat. His smile widened. “The driver will then grab the merchandise from the trash chute, masquerading as a late-night custodian, and haul it into the unmarked car. Kenoh and I get in, the three of us head to my buyer. End of story.” 

“You guys are hitting the buyer without us?” Soya raised an eyebrow, leaning back on the couch to make himself more comfortable, spreading out his legs to gently edge Nakajima off little by little. The man noticed, eyeballing him and standing up as Manabu’s knees pressed into his thighs. 

Katsuhiko walked around to join Kenoh at his arm chair, perching himself on the arm while Kenoh stared at him, a single eyebrow raised. Katsuhiko paid no mind. “It’s less conspicuous. Besides, my guy prefers a smaller party. He has all the cash prepared in advance. He’ll pass the goods around in the foreign market, and we’ll get an easy payday.” 

“How do we know he’ll make good?”

It was the first thing Haoh had said in hours, maybe all day. But it was what everyone was thinking. A same-day payment was rare, let alone easy. But Nakajima Katsuhiko, infamous conman, walked into their lives with a foolproof plan and a ready buyer. Nothing sat right, but Kenoh seemed to buy into it anyway. 

“He will. The deal is solid,” was all Nakajima had to offer. 

“He has no reason to lie. But I’m meeting with the buyer tomorrow,” Kenoh supplied, trying to ease any worries. All men still awake glanced at each other, before each conceding in their own way. Kenoh clearly had made up his mind. Trying to change their leader’s mind was completely out of the question. And Kenoh wouldn’t hesitate to prove that, using any single one of them as an example. 

“One more question,” Kitamiya piped up, the least worried about crossing over to Kenoh’s bad side. Kenoh’s lip turned up, with a slight twitch of his eye, but he didn’t say anything, so Masa continued. “The Feds. What if Kiyomiya and his gang of losers show up?” 

Kenoh’s expression shifted drastically, his slight upturned lip turning into a full on snarl at the mere mention of the young naive man always chasing Kongoh’s tail. His eyes snapped shut for a moment, shaking his head before opening his eyes, more awake than ever before. 

“Let him,” was all he said, voice low and irritable. He closed the laptop with a definitive snap before heading to the suite’s bedroom. The rest of the group only sighed. And Nakajima grinned, laughing quietly from where their leader previously had been sitting. 

\---

Kenoh and Nakajima walked out of the broker’s shop by way of a dark alley, through a door that no one would normally give a second glance. “I hate him.” 

“There’s a shock,” Nakajima laughed it off, closing the door and locking it with an old fashioned padlock, quietly pocketing the key as they walked out in the December afternoon. 

“He’s a disgusting, obscene old man more interested in joking around and kissing ass than actually giving us a good deal. Where the fuck did you find this guy?” 

“He’s former military, and he has a lot of pull. He always knows someone who knows someone else. He’ll make good.” Nakajima assured again, pulling the hood of his winter coat over his head of curls. Kenoh didn’t bother to do the same, his face already turning red from the cold. 

“Besides, I got everything on this guy,” Nakajima finally confessed as they got further and further away from the alley. “He keeps all the cash for payouts in an inner vault in the shop. I have building layout, codes and keys made for everything. He trusts me. Things go south and we rob him blind in the middle of the night, and keep the merchandise for another sale. I’d just rather not burn my contacts first.” 

Kenoh grunted. “Convenient excuse.” 

Nakajima stopped walking entirely. “Don’t believe me if you want, but I can give you everything as soon as we get back.” 

Kenoh stopped with him, pivoting to face him directly. The smile had dropped, and Nakajima was staring at him in full sincerity. Kenoh examined the grifter with care. He had an almost sweet face, Kenoh decided. Without the facial hair, he could pass as being mid-twenties, he could pass as being innocent. 

It was then he noticed that Nakajima’s eyes had shifted away from Kenoh entirely, looking at the wall behind them both. Kenoh turned around, glancing at it. Some kind of entertainment venue, with the windows covered with flyers for a professional wrestling event. 

“You into this kind of crap?” He didn’t mean it in a bad way, it was just not what he expected out of a man who always postures himself as some kind of smooth operator. 

His reaction, however, was even more unexpected. Nakajima stepped back, shifting away from Kenoh and walking forward, as though embarrassed. “No. Not at all. Someone I knew.” 

Kenoh scoffed. He wondered if it was an old friend, or a lover, or some victim the conman had fooled. He didn’t care enough to ask. But the tinge of sentimentality in his voice, and how far away he had looked for that one second, it couldn’t be denied. There was humanity underneath his wolfish grin. He hungered for more than what he had, just like Kenoh had thought when Katsuhiko first approached him for the job. Just like he had thought about every member he brought into his crew. 

“Kitamiya will be pulling around the next corner. He hates you, so don’t do anything stupid. And I’ll take the layouts of Sugiura’s shitty black market pawn shop once we get back.” Kenoh added, conceding to trust the man. And just like that, Nakajima’s smile was back like it never left. Kenoh huffed at the sight, his breath showing in the winter cold. 

“I still hate the old man though.” 

\---

Four days later, there was a dark red van parked in the far end of the parking garage underneath the hotel. Inside, Tadasuke sat in his sweats, with his hair tied back into a messy bun as he fussed over the monitors in the gutted interior of the van. He hummed to himself, low and simple, as he pulled everyone up on screen and got comms live. 

“Sing us a song, Tadasuke,” Soya snorted dryly, voice transmission loud and clear. He was already in the venue, attaching a fake security badge to the pocket on his black buttoned down shirt, pulling a cap over his conspicuous dyed hair. 

“He only sings when he’s drunk.” Nioh pulled up his hair and buttoned up a vest, looking all the world like any other waiter at the event. Haoh did the same, tying a neat bow tie onto himself in the bathroom mirror just outside the main ballroom. 

“If you get drunk on the job I’m going to end you,” Kenoh reminded him, almost casually. He and Nakajima were in valet parking, climbing out of a ritzy unmarked black vehicle. Kitamiya sat at the helm, complete with a chauffeur’s vest and dark sunglasses, with a janitor’s uniform on the floor of the car, ready for a quick change.

Tadasuke only laughed as he pulled up a camera from outside the venue, zooming in as far as he could on Kenoh and Nakajima. “You two clean up  _ real  _ nice. Look at these two handsome fellows.” 

Nakajima turned to look Kenoh over, tilting his head a little. “You’d look better if you relaxed your face more, you know. You look constipated,” he decided, reaching towards Kenoh to straighten up his tie. Kenoh quickly batted his hand away, his dark expression somehow deepening as he adjusted his own tie with a snarl. 

“What’s our entry time? This conversation is pissing me off.” Kenoh wasn’t interested in talking about looks. It was all inane chattering from a vain man. That much was certain from the way he was dressed, perfectly matched and accentuated in black and dark red, with his hair styled carefully. Not a single curl was out of place. He looked like a millionaire. Which would have been perfect for the job, save for the fact that Nakajima was meant to merely scope out the security detail. 

“A few minutes, I’m rerouting to the leftmost door from where you two are looking. Lock’s electronic so I should be able to get you in without anyone noticing you don’t have an invitation.” Tadasuke smiled to himself, sinking down as he went to work, laying on the bed of the van.

Nakajima whistled, clearly impressed. He glanced over at Kenoh. “He really can get us anywhere, huh? Your guy is pretty good.” 

Kenoh only bristled, not liking his tone at all. “Of course he’s good! Kongoh is the best! I picked him up out of Ratel’s myself.” No one questioned his team, not even to express surprise at his competence. 

“They didn’t appreciate me, and Kenoh did. That’s all it was,” Tadasuke chipped in, feeling a little smug himself, rolling over as he worked. “Oh, reminds me. We got pretty lucky. All the room locks operate on phone locks. So if you need a room, just say the word and I can probably get the key to your phone, Boss.” 

“It’s not  _ that kind  _ of mission,” Nakajima supplied quickly. “Though I’m sure Kenoh could knock any seduction game out of the park. Kongoh is the  _ best,  _ after all.” His voice was dripping with his own brand of slick sarcasm. 

Even Kitamiya bit his fist to hold back his laughter. Kenoh opened his mouth to argue, undoubtedly to defend his own prowess. But before he said anything, Tadasuke piped back in. “Okay get to the door and I can open it. Any last thoughts?” 

“Don’t fuck up,” Kenoh said immediately. “And Haoh,” he added, as an aside. “If things go south, remember there’s a vent that leads straight to the vault.” 

“Fantastic,” Haoh’s voice sighed, rolling back his shoulders, not excited at the thought of having to resort to vent crawling. Clearly spoken from a man who had to do it one too many times. 

“And he’d rather not so let’s do this right,” Kenoh then finished as the two reached the door. “Ready?”

He looked to Nakajima, who fiddled with his hair for only a moment before turning to the door. He nodded, his face refined and startlingly focused. “Open it, Tadasuke,” he then said firmly, as though he were the one calling the shots. 

\---

The conference was long and tedious, at best. Kenoh played along with no small amount of restraint. So much of what they were trying to sell was just smoke and mirrors. Miracle drugs for a society so flawed that it couldn’t be repaired. And the few things of actual use were, undoubtedly in Kenoh’s mind, going to be sold to selfish men for selfish purposes. Having to sit through it all was an absolute test of his patience. He nearly envied Nakajima and the others for getting to wait outside. 

But then it was over, and Kenoh was free to patrol the area as rich businessmen shook hands and rubbed elbows. It didn’t take him long to spot Shiozaki amongst the crowd. The man stood out in almost every way. Looks, voice, demeanor, it was hard to pass him over. He was wearing a stylish tan suit, with a black turtleneck underneath. Closing some distance in the crowd, Kenoh could just make out the outline of a necklace, but only underneath the shirt. He clicked his tongue. 

“He’s tucked the damn necklace under a high neck shirt. Haoh, do you think you can still get to it?” Kenoh hissed into his mic, holding his phone to his ear to look like he was making a call. Both he and the seasoned thief had deft hands, but even then it could be asking a lot. 

“Get him to the catering area and I see what I can do.” Was all Haoh said. Kenoh scanned the large ballroom for his crew. Soya and Nakajima should have been following the battery and other exhibition items with the security team at that very moment. On the floor, it was just Kenoh, Nioh and Haoh. 

That is, until Kenoh spotted Nakajima, hanging in the back corner of the room, leaning against the wall for just a moment. Their eyes met, and the man nodded, before slipping out the door once again. “What are you doing, you bastard?” he asked, more to himself but not caring if anyone over comms picked it up. No one responded, even if they had heard. 

Kenoh had no choice but to move forward, through the crowd and towards their target, surrounded by investors and politely shaking hands with each and every one. He forced his own way to the front, shoulders firm and gaze solid. Shiozaki stopped in his pleasantries, making direct eye-contact with the blonde man in front of him. 

Kenoh stood out too, just like Shiozaki. He always did, even as a child. Some people melt themselves down and stubbornly try to blend in. Kenoh never wanted to do that. He dyed his hair, he adopted his snarl as his own face, and he used his unique look to command attention. 

And now he had Shiozaki Go’s attention. 

“I don’t believe we’ve met.” Go’s smile was still stiff, but it still had a warmth to it as he extended his hand. Kenoh met it in kind, gripping hard. Just from that alone, he could tell the man was strong, and firm in his convictions. “Shiozaki Go, of ARK Enterprises. I’m sorry for asking but you are…?” 

“Nakae Daisuke. I didn’t expect you to know me.” He kept his voice quiet, and tried to relax his face, like Nakajima had told him. He didn’t need the man’s meddling, but Kenoh couldn’t deny that the conman had much more experience with this than him. 

“No business card?” Go raised an eyebrow, a quirk to his lips. Someone who was used to everyone else having business with him, with everyone having an angle. Kenoh knew the feeling all too well. 

“I don’t have business with you,” Kenoh clarified. “I’m just wondering when you’re going to finally give up this prim and proper act and go to the buffet table that you’ve been eyeing all night.” 

And finally, that professional smile broke into a full grin, Shiozaki’s shoulders softening as he broke into a laugh. And over comms, Kenoh heard the sound of someone sucking in breath through their teeth, like that single smile had knocked the air from their lungs, even from all the way across the room. 


	2. Chapter 2

Kenoh had been right, after all. The man loved to eat. He took out his phone no less than three times to take a picture of himself with a plate full of bread rolls, and then various fancy meats and cheeses. And then finally he started breaking into the daintily decorated cakes and tarts. Kenoh managed to slide his phone out, taking a picture of Shiozaki’s phone. 

While the man took a selfie with his plate, Kenoh turned to the side and sent it to Tadasuke. 

_KENOH: You gave me some kind of tapping device a while ago. Will it work here?_

“Ah, sorry,” Shiozaki chuckled to himself. “I didn’t mean to ignore you. Thanks for the escape plan. I’ve been starving all conference.” 

Kenoh glanced down at his phone. 

_TADASUKE: Place it over the battery. Btw Manabu already did his thing while you were flirting._ ****

Kenoh scrunched his face and turned back to his present company. “You weren’t very subtle about it.” He scanned the room, spotting both Nioh and Haoh outside the kitchen, loading up trays full of food. “Anyone could have seen where you wanted to go. They just had their own needs in mind and chose to ignore it.” 

Nioh saw him first, nudging Haoh in the shoulder. Kenoh blinked, flashing his phone and then giving a tiny nod towards Go. Haoh nodded, as easy to communicate with as ever, before leaning in to explain to his partner. 

Go laughed, but only to hang his head a little. “I doubt that’s true. They’re interested in the future, same as you. You wouldn’t have come here if you weren’t. Are you a reporter?” 

Kenoh snorted, trying to maintain some level of calm. “And use my words to skew the truth? Absolutely not.” 

Both disguised waiters came closing in, and Kenoh thumbed through the same navy suit jacket he used on every job, full of the same tools he always brought. He felt for the wire and thin film, trying to pass it off as nervous fidgeting. 

“Then you’re some kind of excitable conspiracy theorist?” 

There were six different snorts of laughter over comms. Kenoh only glared. 

“Sorry, sorry. It was a joke. You’re interesting, is all. You’re right. Not a lot of people are as frank as you. My partn-” he paused mid-sentence, his hand reaching into his pocket to pull out his phone, almost nervously, eyes leaving Kenoh to glance towards a far corner of the room. A corner that was now empty. 

Suddenly, several things happened in a single fluid motion: 

One: Nioh shouted as he tripped into Shiozaki.

Two: his tray of food came flying onto the man’s finely tailored suit. 

Three: Shiozaki’s phone came tumbling out his already unsteady hand. 

Four: Both Kenoh and Haoh rushed in with napkins, fumbling to the ground to help clean up. 

Shiozaki was, quite fortunately, a kind soul, and turned first to the fallen man to pick him up. Nioh bowed in apology, offering to pat the man down with a damp cloth to help salvage the suit. Really, he was a better actor than Kenoh had ever given him credit for, but neither he nor Haoh had any time to be impressed. 

Haoh grabbed the phone, dismantled it in a single motion, and Kenoh slid over the tape. Once the battery was back together, Kenoh heard a quick “Got it. Processing.” over the comm system. He grabbed the phone and stood back up. 

“Shiozaki-san? You dropped this.” Kenoh cleared his throat awkwardly and handed the phone forward, pulling Go’s attention away from the seemingly hapless waiter. 

Go nodded as he took it, with a small smile. “Thank you. I should go get changed. My dry-cleaner will...I’m sorry for cutting this conversation short. If you like, we can exchange contacts so you ca-” 

“No.” Kenoh couldn’t have been more happy to be done with it. “I do want to know one thing though.” His curiosity got the better of him, on occasion. 

Go tilted his head, quirking a single eyebrow, as though this were some kind of game. Kenoh just took it as permission to continue. “That super battery of yours. Who do you _want_ to sell it to?” 

Shiozaki glanced around the room, for a second, before steeling his resolve. “The medical field, if I could. It could make multiple procedures more effective and affordable to thousands of hospitals, more accessible to everyone. And you said you weren’t a reporter?” 

“Good night, Shiozaki-san,” Kenoh then bowed and walked off, awkwardly but effectively all the same. Shiozaki was an earnest man, but not a naive one, he concluded. He let Kenoh walk away, possibly processing their conversation. 

For the first time all night, Kitamiya’s voice crackled over comms. “Hey I know I didn’t have visual but I can’t help but wonder what the hell that was all about. What was the point?” 

“I have a hunch.” Kenoh just grunted, once he was a safe distance, allowing several waiters to clean up the mess they had made. Stealth work wasn’t his speciality, but his instincts were usually good. “We’ll see just how much of a _conspiracy theorist_ I am, yeah?” 

\---

Kenoh was out of his mind, Kitamiya decided as he watched the city from the outdoor parking deck, exclusively for valet and chauffeur drivers. It was dead of winter, and no one else was out, which was perfect for staking out and watching the grounds surrounding the hotel. 

Kitamiya sighed to himself. Kenoh had gotten them all this far, over the past year or so. So there was no point in not seeing it through to the end.

He returned to his trusty binoculars, watching as another unmarked vehicle pulled into the long drive-through of the hotel, circling around once before finding a corner to park in just off the entrance. It was all black, with a tell-tale antenna on the back for picking up long distance signals. Government issued. “Fuck.” 

He rushed to his own getaway vehicle, popping the trunk to pull up some better lenses. He set them up quickly, zooming in for a better look. Sure enough, three men pulled out of the car, shaking hands with security and flashing their badges. The fourth, the driver, stayed inside the car, staking out and watching for activity, just like Kitamiya had always taught him. The mohawk was gone, but the silhouette was unmistakable. 

“Hey Kenoh? Not to break up your party but fucking Crime Prevention is here. They seem to be heading in with security.” 

Soya was the first to respond. “I’m moving out then. They’re probably going to the monitor room to look over the cameras. I’ll see what I can intercept from there.” 

“I’m going with Soya. They don’t know I’m with you guys. It’ll give me an edge.” For once, Nakajima seemed to finally be speaking some sense. 

Nioh piped in. “I’ll get near the safe with Haoh. Tadasuke, can you cut the cameras there?” 

No answer. 

Finally, Kenoh spoke up. “Hey! Tadasuke?” He asked in a harsh whisper. 

Kitamiya felt his phone buzz. A notification from the group chat, last made when Kenoh added Tadasuke to the group. 

_TADASUKE_ : _I know we got some real shit going down but you all need to see what I just grabbed from our target’s phone_

Attached was a screenshot from a chat log, with the last text sent a mere minute ago. 

“Son of a bitch.” Kitamiya hissed, more to himself, and not caring if anyone else on comms heard. He wondered if that was Kenoh’s little ‘hunch’ all along. For all his paranoia, sometimes the man had a gift. 

But Kenoh didn’t say anything, and Kitamiya could only guess what his full reaction was. A few seconds later, his phone lit up again. 

_KENOH: Soya. Don’t say anything. Keep Nakajima right there._

\---

“Cut the cameras for corridor #23” Kenoh growled as he spotted Nakajima, waiting for him with Soya, none too patiently. He nodded towards Soya, who nodded in return, giving a small salute as he adjusted his cap and took his leave down towards the first floor security closet, undoubtedly to make sure the feds didn’t find them anywhere on the screens. Tadasuke did good work, but he couldn’t cut every feed at once without being noticed. 

But right now, Kenoh could do whatever he wanted and no one would ever know he was there. 

“You got a plan, boss?” Nakajima’s tone was casual, none the wiser. “You couldn’t get the necklace, after all, it seemed. Too bad.” 

“Shut up,” Kenoh scrunched his nose, remembering the whole awful, awkward encounter. “We got his phone tapped. We’ll know exactly where he’s heading and we can track the code from there.” 

“Is that what was going on?” Nakajima shrugged, his smile not betraying anything. “Not sure what good that will do you, but good on you. You two seemed to have a real nice conversation there. Talk about anything interesting, Mister Smooth Talker?” 

“Yeah. A nice chat about professional wrestling.” 

Nakajima’s face stilled, his smile completely gone. 

“You checked your phone lately?” Kenoh’s cool was quickly slipping, shoulders tensing as Nakajima reached for his phone. He pushed a single notification, though Kenoh had a feeling the man had been checking it all night. Perhaps the same way Shiozaki had been checking his. Katsuhiko closed his eyes after looking over the messages again, exposed. 

_GO: I thought I just saw you. Are you at the Technological Advancement Congress?_

_GO: It’s a little lonely here. Wish I had someone interesting to talk to_

_GO: It was you, wasn’t it?_

_GO: I’m in room 1247 if you want to meet in private. You haven’t answered in days but…_

_GO: I’m sorry, Katsu. I came on too strong and I’m sorry._

_GO: I needed you._

When he opened his eyes again, Kenoh pounced forward, all pretense completely gone. He grabbed Nakajima’s collar and shoved him against the hallway’s wall, slamming him there with a satisfying crack. “What the _fuck_ are you playing at, Nakajima? Are you setting us up? Are you the one that called the fucking feds?” 

A pause, looking over Nakajima’s face. The earnestness was back, the sincerity and hunger from when Kenoh first spoke to him. The shame Nakajima had, asking for help with a job that he couldn’t seem to get done on his own. “No. That’s not it, is it? You just didn’t want to be the one to do it. You didn’t want to break his fucking heart. That’s why you pulled me and mine into your shitty little divorce dispute?” 

“Get _off_ of me.” 

“That’s why you couldn’t just stay within the security perimeter. You had to _see_ him again, didn’t you. Hey! Look at me when I talk! Hey!” Kenoh shook Nakajima for a second before finally backing off. “That’s fine. You’ll get your chance. Tadasuke can get you entry to room 1247. Though, I don’t think you’ll even need a key, will you? And you won’t have _any_ trouble getting that necklace, will you, motherfucker?” 

Nakajima then finally looked him in the eyes again, blinking in surprise. Kenoh still trusted him. After all that, Kenoh still trusted him and wanted to work with him. There was a strangled sound over comms, no doubt someone trying to protest before swallowing down their thoughts on the matter. Instead, the two men stared at each other in silence, trying to put all the pieces together, silently dancing around each other’s thoughts and motives. 

Then once again, Nakajima did what he did the absolute best: he smiled. 

“I guess it _is_ that kind of mission, after all. That’s fine. Just keep your eyes on me.” 

\---

Shiozaki was still wearing the turtleneck when he opened the door, distracted until he saw who was waiting for him on the other side. “You were here, after all.” He had his glasses on, probably on his laptop looking over different reports and sales offers for the day. The party wasn’t even over downstairs, but Go was already back to working, never slowing down for a second. 

That was fine. Katsuhiko knew how to make him take a break. 

“I tried to stay away. You make it a bit hard, looking like you did tonight,” Katsu offered with a small, cheeky smile, still standing in the doorway of the hotel suite. 

Go laughed, smiling at the ground and brushing back his hair, like he wasn’t used to those kinds of compliments. It had been a while since they were like this, tiptoeing around each other with awkward delicacy, unsure of what to say. Like two teenagers with crushes. 

“May I come in?” he asked, already knowing the answer as Go ushered him inside, shutting the door behind them. And Katsuhiko didn’t at all miss the way Go deadbolted the door, just in case, with a silent hope something more might come from the night. Something more than two men talking over what caused Katsu to leave. 

Nakajima closed his eyes, to focus. He was focused. 

When he opened his eyes again, he scoped the area. It was a modest suite, all things considered, with a separate bedroom and a door connecting it to the next room over, no doubt for Shiozaki’s own security. Not that he really needed it. “They didn’t make you go for the penthouse suite? The big wigs are skimping out on you,” Katsuhiko moved towards the kitchen area, glancing over the assortment of alcohol that was set out at the minibar. “Unless there are bigger names at this little shindig than I thought.” 

“I insisted. I wasn’t expecting anyone, so no need,” Shiozaki laughed. He slid into the kitchen in a fluid motion, standing opposite of the small bar area where Katsuhiko stood. He opened up a cabinet full of glassware, looking it over. “Now what will it be, good sir? Wine? Whiskey? Too early for champagne?” He looked back at Katsu, quirking an eyebrow and smiling, hamming it up like a bartender in an old movie. 

Katsu sighed. Barely in the room for a few minutes and already the man was back to his antics, like nothing had changed between them at all. Maybe Shiozaki was hoping nothing had. Like Nakajima hadn’t left without a trace, leaving more than a few choice words in his wake. “Wine is fine, _barkeep_ ,” he drawled with obvious sarcasm, but Shiozaki still laughed, shoulders shaking with him. 

“I’m glad you came. I’m…” Shiozaki finally confessed, pouring two glasses between them and staring at the wine like it was the most impressive thing in the world. “The conference was awful without you. It felt like all the old business meetings, before I met you. I guess I had grown attached to having you there, to lean on.” 

There was a snort over the communication system, and suddenly it was too much to know he was being listened to. There were no cameras in the private rooms. Nakajima knew that much. Once that communication link was severed, so was his trust with Kongoh. But he couldn’t have them all listening. He couldn’t let them hear Go like this, so earnest and open and _raw_ in a way the increasingly proud CEO would never let anyone else see. 

“We met at one of these events, in case you forgot,” Nakajima laughed, brushing his hand through his hair, hovering his hand over his ear subtly. “I know what you mean though. It’s so hard to find people who will just _trust and listen_ ,” he enunciated the last words carefully and loudly, before clicking the off button on the communication feed. “You always did though. I thought you were so obnoxious at first but...thank you,” Nakajima finished. 

There was then a heavy silence between them, the suite now completely silent without the weight of anyone listening in or speaking up. The two leaned over the bar, pouring more wine quietly and drinking between them. 

Katsu was the first to speak up again. “You seemed to be making new friends though.” 

Go laughed, shaking his head as he took a long sip. “God that high-strung reporter? Not at all. He was interesting. More interesting than most of them, but...admittedly I was a little distracted.” 

“By the dessert bar?” 

“By trying to find you in the crowd again,” Shiozaki said quickly, before adding with a smile, “And the dessert bar. They had amazing little cream puffs, you know.” 

“You never change, do you?” Nakajima rolled his eyes, without any ire. He placed his glass down, done with it for now. The others were probably done now too. For all he knew, they abandoned the mission entirely, leaving him in the dust to try to piece himself together. Or worse, the feds have already found them, and they were currently in the process of ratting him out. 

“I could change,” Shiozaki then said, quietly. “I could try, at least. You told me that I was too proud and stubborn. I’ve been thinking about it a lo-” 

Nakajima leaned over the bar, closing the distance between them with a hand around Shiozaki’s head. He carded his fingers through his hair for a long moment, before bringing their heads together for a soft lingering kiss. If the plan was over, the least he could do was indulge himself a little. 

A soft sigh escaped from Go. He seemed all too happy to sidestep the awkward apologies and conversations, at least for the time being. Perhaps he thought there would be time for it later. Go moved around the bar, so that he could be closer, so he could push himself against Katsuhiko. So they could taste each other, feel each other. Nakajima ran his fingers under the hem of Go’s shirt, nipping at his earlobe until he heard a long shuddering breath. Katsu relished in it, letting out a low breath of his own. 

Even with everything rushing around him, even with a million thoughts swimming through his head, Go still brought heat out him. He couldn’t deny it, stirring within him. 

“Katsu…please...” They fell into each other too easily, Go’s hands fumbling at the buttons on Nakajima’s vest. He walked forward, gently pushing the other man to the black leather couch that adorned the open area of the suite. 

Nakajima let himself be led, but only for a moment. The back of his legs hit the arm of the couch and he pushed his hand under Go’s shirt in earnest, pulling it up to his arms. “Sorry. I’m eager.” Nakajima’s voice was low.

No one could say no to that, least of all Shiozaki. He took off the turtleneck in a fluid motion, placing it on the ground. He slid his leg between Nakajima’s forcing the other man to slide back onto the arm of the couch, before sinking down onto the couch itself, unbuttoning his vest all the while, smiling with an unspoken invitation. An invitation that Shiozaki could never refuse. 

He all but crawled on top of Katsu, eyes already filled with want as his chest gave a small heave. He leaned in, mouthing hot at Nakajima’s neck. With a small gasp of air, Nakajima saw his chance, sliding his hands around Go’s neck. He played with the hair at the nape of his neck, feeling for the clasp of the necklace. 

When it came undone and tumbled to the floor, Go said nothing at all. 

Go ran his hand down Nakajima’s side, down towards his pants, gently pulling at his dress shirt. But then instead of attempting to fully undress Nakajima, his hands continued downwards, towards his pants pockets, and Nakajima realized how trapped he was. 

Go pulled out the pocketed transmitter with a struggle, Nakajima desperately kicking his legs to get out from underneath the larger man. To no avail. 

“I knew it,” Shiozaki said, chucking the little comms device to the side and grabbing Nakajima's shoulders and pulling, forcing them both to tumble to the ground. 

Nakajima managed to land on top, scrambling off to get to the necklace. The key itself had slipped off the little gold chain, laying on the wood floor of the ritzy hotel room. Just beyond it was a small gold dog tag, with six numbers written on it carefully and clearly. 

Satisfied that he had seen the code, Nakajima focused on the key, reaching for it as Go grabbed his ankle, and then his hips. Nakajima turned over, kicking the man back with force before propelling himself backwards, reaching for the key. 

His fingers missed, and the key went sliding across the floor, underneath the locked door to the connecting room. “ _Fuck,_ ” was all Nakajima could muster to say. 

That pause as he processed the situation, that little mistake, was all Shiozaki needed. He pounced on top of Nakajima, slamming his head into the wood floor once, turning him to his stomach and pulling out his arms. When Nakajima tried to fight back, Shiozaki pulled at his hair, before slamming his head down again, with a resounding crack against the wood. 

Nakajima’s ears were still ringing when he registered Go snapping handcuffs around his wrist. 

“I thought you said you weren’t expecting anyone,” Nakajima said, with as much of a smile as he could muster. His own voice sounded far away, and not for any of the good reasons. 

“You really didn’t think I didn’t do my research on you, after you left?” Shiozaki grumbled, turning Nakajima over after having the cuffs fully secured. “I didn’t sleep for days after I ran your profile over with the cops. I trusted you. I…” 

“You’re the one who called the feds,” Nakajima finally said, not wanting to hear the rest of the sentence. He struggled to sit up, their thighs still touching. He wasn’t bleeding. At least he didn’t think he was. He could sit up just fine, but he could hardly move after that. Go really did pack a punch when he needed to. 

“The second I saw you,” Shiozaki confirmed. Never heartless, he helped Nakajima sit up. And when he tried to scoot himself back to lean against the wall where the key had slipped, Go actually helped guide him there, satisfied that the man wouldn’t truly be able to escape. “And now I will tell them where you are, and we will wait for them to show up.” 

Nakajima sat there for a moment, rapping his knuckles against the wall three times, looking for any kind of movement in his hands. He knocked against the wall three more times, before pausing. “There really is _zero_ chance of us working this out?” Nakajima asked, with a small smile. 

Shiozaki didn’t find it funny, not in the least. “I wanted it to,” he finally said, closing his eyes. “I would have given you more money than whatever your buyer offered you. I would have given you anything. You _knew_ that. What was the point of all of this?” 

Nakajima continued knocking, trying to get any kind of movement out of his wrists that he could. Eight times, this time. Shiozaki looked at him, in an almost sickening mix of emotions. Confusion and frustration, heartbreak and irritation. “I didn’t want your coddled life, living under the thumb of a board of directors in exchange for what? Money? Power? Some deluded fantasy that you’re fulfilling the wishes of your late boss?” 

“ _Shut up_ ,” Shiozaki bit back, regretting ever having told Katsuhiko that. Regretting telling him his guilt and his dreams, and the burden of everything that fell onto his shoulders. Regretting having shared so much of his life. 

Nakajima knocked on the wall five more times, but Shiozaki ignored him. 

“You were the first thing I ever did that wasn’t for the good of the company, since he died. You were the first person who let me do something for myself.” Go was snarling, perhaps in anger, but his eyes were glassy, with bitter enraged tears. 

“You don’t really believe that, do you?” Nakajima shook his head. Maybe Kenoh was right. Maybe Shiozaki really did live his life with a silver spoon up his ass. Or maybe Nakajima had just sold his soul so long ago that he couldn’t even imagine what it must be like to be in Shiozaki’s shoes. “At the end of the day, you still have everything. You may say you stand at the top for everyone’s good, but you’re still the one standing at the top. Have you ever stopped to think what _for?”_

He paused, holding his breath as he waited. 

He heard four knocks back from the person on the other side of the hotel wall, from the man in the suite next door. Nakajima smiled, ear to ear before turning back to his captor. 

_330-854_

The realization dawned with sickening horror on Go’s face. He glanced down at the necklace laying on the floor, with the numbers laying upwards and visible, and the safe key completely missing, slid into the other room. Another moment later, he heard the door to the next room over slam shut. 

And just like that, Go was pulling his shirt on, making his way to run down the hall after the man. Nakajima laughed, feeling absolutely nothing in his chest as he did so. In the end, he was right. He just needed someone to “trust and listen”. Shiozaki hadn’t. Kenoh had. That’s all it was. 

That’s all it was. 

\---

Kenoh bolted down the furthest staircase, key in hand, jumping as many railings as he could on his way down. “Hey! Haoh! Stairwell #12!” 

“We’re on the sixth floor,” Haoh then said, confirming his location as he bolted to meet Kenoh by the door to the stairwell, and get the key to Nioh before anyone noticed. 

“And you’re not alone. Shiozaki is en route. I’ll see if I can cut him off electronically. Kiyomiya and their new guy are heading to the twelfth to get Nakajima, by way of staircase” Tadasuke filled in the gaps, flipping between as many screens as he could find. “Guess they know better than to take the elevators.” 

“The boy does learn quickly, I’ll give him that,” Kenoh grumbled as he cleared the ground to the seventh floor. “Soya, is the big guy still in the damn camera room? Get him out. I don’t fucking care how. We’re moving too quickly to have someone watching the tapes.” 

“Finally.” They could all hear the smile on his voice, followed by several large crashes. 

“Turn off your feed, shit!” Kitamiya shouted, before Soya cut his comms into silence, leaving them to trust in whatever methods the big guy came up with. “No movement from Inamura out front. He hasn’t spotted me, but I’m changed and ready to move as soon as Haoh makes the drop.” 

Kenoh nodded, making the final leap over the railing and rushed down to the door to the hotel hallway. Haoh was rounding a corner, perfectly timed, running to meet him at the door. He handed him the key. “ _330-854_. Go see if the bastard did his job right, yeah?” 

“No vent climbing for me, huh?” Haoh cracked the smallest smile, grabbing the key with a thankful nod. 

“Don’t be so sure,” Kenoh warned, turning back into the stairwell to head back up to the 12th floor. Haoh didn’t protest, turning immediately to run down and finish his job with his partner. 

Tadasuke, however, immediately spoke up as soon as he noticed. “Are you going to go _rescue_ Nakajima? He _lied_ to us! He’s not even _one of us._ ” 

Kenoh was already clearing two floors, running on sheer aggression and adrenaline. “And you’re going to help me do it. Get me access to room 1247 like you did with 1249, and keep me updated on Kiyomiya.” 

“Kenoh what the _fuck_?” Kitamiya was the next to protest. “We could leave him. He’s not even on comms anymore. Kiyomiya will leave us alone, thinking he won and...you don’t want Kiyomiya thinking he won, do you?” 

A long beat. 

“Oh my god,” Masa groaned. Over comms, there was the sound of a car engine as Kitamiya put the getaway car into drive. “Haoh, Nioh, where are you at? Because I clearly can’t help this guy.” 

“In the safe. Do you mind? Soya can only keep the guards distracted so long…” Nioh hissed in a harsh whisper. There was silence for a long moment. “Okay got it. Handing off the goods to Haoh and heading to you, Tadasuke.” 

“Cool cool. Feds on floor nine.” 

“Good. I’m on eleven. Any luck cutting Shiozaki off in the elevators?” Kenoh grunted, bolting up the final set of stairs with fervor. 

“I stalled them. They’ll be back online in a minute but that should be enough time. Are you sure about thi-” 

“ _Yes_.” Kenoh didn’t leave any room for argument as he ran down the twelfth floor hallway, stopping right before the suite at the end of the hall. He pulled up his phone, hovering it over the little device on the door. With a resounding click, he threw open the door. 

“You look pathetic.” 

“You look winded. A little cardio was that hard on you?” Nakajima grinned, as though not surprised to see Kenoh there. Kenoh could see right through it, the man’s eyes furrowed in telling disbelief. 

“We’ll see who's laughing after you’ve done the same run while wearing cuffs. Come here.” Kenoh walked in and grabbed the man by his arm, dragging him to his feet with force. Nakajima took a moment to balance himself with his hands still behind his back. “We’ll break you out in the car. Now we’ve got to fucking _move_.” 

“So kind to me,” Nakajima rolled his eyes, following Kenoh out of the room and down the hall, rolling his shoulders to try to get some kind of movement in his arms while he ran. “I wasn’t going to talk if they took me in.” 

“I know.” Kenoh lied. He was almost certain the man would have told them everything, but he didn’t need to say that right now. Right now, Nakajima was a member of his crew. So he treated him as such. And Nakajima still followed him, despite his hungry eyes still so desperately looking another way. Kenoh could trust in that for now. 

For a while then, it was only the sound of Tadasuke keeping them updated on everyone’s movements. Soya had run from the crash he caused outside of the monitor room, taking out two members of the hotel security in his wake. Nioh and Haoh were both on their way back to the surveillance van, no one the wiser as they moved in the shadows of blind spots and cover points. Shiozaki was back on the map, running to find a broken safe to match his broken heart. And the file of blueprints and the battery were safely tumbling down a trash chute in the west corridor, safely into the bag of local custodian Kitamiya Masa. 

As they rounded down to the fourth floor, Nakajima finally spoke up. “Thanks for coming back for me.” 

“Thanks for getting us the correct information,” Kenoh said almost immediately, without stopping. There was an exit to the dumpster area on the second floor, with one single hallway keeping them from a long stretch of asphalt where Masa waited with the getaway car.

As they approached the final set of doors to the outside, Kenoh slowed. “Still don’t know why you fucking bothered with all these little games though.” 

Nakajima shrugged as best he could. “Have you ever been in love?” 

“Yes.” Kenoh blinked, not a hint of doubt in his eyes. He opened the door, holding it so that Nakajima could go through ahead of him, walking into the night. “Have you?” 

Nakajima closed his eyes, waiting for Kenoh to fall in step next to him. The cold of December bit against both of them, Nakajima’s blazer and vest long forgotten and Kenoh’s tie undone, flapping haphazardly in the wind. “No. Not at all.” 

“I didn’t think so.” Kenoh snorted as Kitamiya pulled around towards them. Kenoh opened the door to the backseat wordlessly, kicking at Katsuhiko until he tumbled inside. He climbed into the seat next to him, pulling out a lock pick to work on getting Nakajima free. 

Kenoh glanced at Kitamiya, checking all the mirrors for signs of being followed. “Inamura see you leave?” 

Masa shrugged. He trained the guy to look for any strange movements, before he left Kongoh altogether. He’d be insulted if Inamura didn’t spot him at all. “Probably.” 

“Then fucking _drive_.” 


	3. Chapter 3

Inamura had, in fact, seen Kitamiya barrel down from valet parking. Masa noticed him coming onto their trail about three blocks from the hotel. “Not bad,” he decided, once figuring in the amount of time it probably took to get Kiyomiya and the others back into the car. They were learning, and fast. That suited Kitamiya just fine though. He didn’t get into the business because he wanted things to be easy. 

He took a sharp left at the next light, watching the rearview to see what Yoshiki would do. “Don’t make me look lame, kid,” he muttered to himself, turning his eyes back to the road and trying to ignore the bickering in the backseat. 

“So you tango with these fools a lot? It’s a miracle you haven’t been caught,” Katsuhiko shook his wrists out, laughing at Kenoh’s face twisting in agitation. 

“Miracle nothing! I already told you. Kongoh are the best!” Kenoh brusquely replied, leaning to the side to look out the window, to see if he could see the government vehicle tailing behind them still. “This is just another chance to prove to the kid how far behind me he still is.” 

“You make it sound like a game. Hardly life or death.” At this point, Nakajima was clearly just seeing what he could say to further rile Kenoh up. But he took the bait anyway, gnashing his teeth and glaring at the man with fire that Masa could sense even from the front seat. 

He swerved right, hissing to himself as he still could see Inamura’s vehicle coming behind. They were still miles from the buyer, with plenty of time to lose them. But if he didn’t knock them off the trail in time, they’d be able to track them to the pawn shop. “Shit. Tadasuke can you fuck with the traffic patterns or  _ something?”  _

“Don’t ask for the impossible. But I’ll look around for a lead. Just you know, go for broke. You’ll be fine.” Kitamiya could hear two others in the background, idly talking. He cursed to himself, so happy to know that everyone was having a good time here except him. 

Well, him and Kenoh, who rarely seemed to have a good time doing just about anything. “A  _ game _ ? A fucking... _ game _ ? What about you? Fooling around with your own mark? And you call yourself a professional? Pathetic. You didn’t have the balls to steal from him yourself until I came along.” 

Tadasuke came to the rescue. “Okay I think I figured something out. Flagging your GPS.” Masa looked down at the screen above his center console and mulled it over for a moment, trying to figure out what the other man meant. He nodded to himself, ignoring the arguing in the backseat, and he took a sharp u-turn at the next light. 

Kenoh straightened himself up, if only to watch them speed past their pursuers, leaving them to scramble to get back on their trail. He snorted, satisfied. Katsuhiko was quick to notice. “You were  _ saying _ ?” He responded with a smug grin, only to get elbowed in the stomach. 

“Will both of you shut up?” Kitamiya finally had enough, finding it harder and harder to focus on the road ahead of him and the car behind him. “You’re both obsessive proud freaks and both of you almost got us busted tonight.” He hated to have to be the voice of reason. He hated it even more when he was driving. 

It was never like this when they still had Inamura with them, before Kenoh’s obsession with Kaito got the better of them once again. He grunted, slamming the accelerator to the floor briefly, trying to put the crime prevention unit behind him, once and for all. 

He had bought a fair amount of time with the turn, able to steer himself into the waterside district with relative ease. The roads were more open, full of construction and graveled pits. As it got later into the night, there would be less eyes on them. He steered his way through, resisting the urge to crack a window and feel the icy wind against him as he worked. 

Finally, he came to the destination marked on the GPS, slamming down the accelerator as he blasted through the railway crossing, with nothing but water on either side of the road. “Now, Tadasuke!” He shouted, spinning on his wheels in a fast donut to watch as the railway guard came crashing down.

Inamura could have feasibly tried to break the barrier, but not without putting his passengers at risk. He was a better kid than that, Kitamiya realized as the driver hit the breaks. “Not lame at all,” Kitamiya decided with a smile as he put the car back into full drive, pulling out from the scene and into the downtown area with ease, where they could navigate in peace.

“We’ll be there soon. Call your guy so we can get in and out quick.” Masa knew he wasn’t the one giving the orders, but it felt good to boss a smug guy like Nakajima around. 

“No need,” Nakajima said, stretching out as though he hadn’t been rattled by the sudden movements at all, holding the file of blueprints in his hands. “I told Sugiura the wrong date for the pickup. The shop will be empty when we get there.” 

Kenoh’s entire face twitched, and Masa almost slammed the breaks again. Katsuhiko only shrugged. “It’s like I said. Rob him blind in the dead of the night.” 

“What about not wanting to burn your fucking contacts?” Kenoh made a quick motion to Kitamiya, signaling him to keep driving. They weren’t truly out of the chase yet. 

Nakajima just smiled, ear to ear. And that’s when Kenoh realized, his face dropping for a second before furrowing again, jaw working in circles as he found a way to word his conclusion. “Shiozaki was never your original mark.” 

Katsuhiko winked. 

“Oh what the fuck,” Masa groaned, sick of having to deal with this conman’s level of mind games. 

Kenoh continued. “You were after Sugiura the whole time. You just needed a job big enough to earn his trust. The damn businessman was just a place to shove your d-” 

“It was a bonus payday,” Katsuhiko smoothed down. “I’ve been working the shop owner for years. I just needed a job that would make him put big enough money aside.” 

“So we were just pawns to make you look more legitimate?!” Kitamiya was pissed at this point. 

“So what? You’ll be well-paid pawns,” Nakajima said, with a pause. After a moment, he added “Well I guess I needed a getaway driver. So really, I suppose I was using everyone to get to you, wasn’t I?” He laughed, and Masa was absolutely not laughing along with him. 

Kenoh however,pondered it over, looking out the window as they closed in on the darkened shop, in a blackened corner of the city. “You’re a real fucking bastard.” He glanced over at Nakajima, feeling the smallest tug of a smile on his lips, bringing his hand up automatically to cover his face. 

“Yeah. You too.” Nakajima was smiling too, like he usually was. But this time, there was a glint of hunger in his eyes as he did so. 

\---

Just as advertised, the shop was completely empty. Nakajima unlocked the door and let them both into the dark shop, turning on a single lamp to illuminate the crowded front room. It was packed with different forms of contraband, from guns to rare collectors items to stolen goods from other countries. “It’s going to suck if this guy attaches our name to the robbery,” Kitamiya grunted, looking over the counter at a collection of guns and a duffle bag packed with various kinds of first aid. 

“It won’t matter,” Nakajima said quickly, not offering any explanation as he bent behind the front desk. He emerged a second later, placing a dismantled security trigger on top of the counter, the light on it blinking uselessly as he pulled out the battery. 

Kenoh said nothing at all, looking in the corners of the shop for any signs of cameras. “The layouts you gave me were legit,” he said idly, walking towards where the vaulted room was located, a steel plate with nothing but a small hinged panel on the right side of it. He stopped on his way there, looking over the various odds and ends of the shop, fiddling idly with a few of the souvenirs, as though genuinely entranced by them. 

“Of course they were. We’re friends,” Nakajima said all too smoothly, beating Kenoh to the door. Kitamiya was shortly behind, looking over the huge entrance for any sort of hinge or emergency exit. It was almost sad how this back-alley contraband shop had better security than ARK Enterprises. Kenoh had insisted that Sugiura was a joke when he met him, but now both members of the Kongoh were beginning to think otherwise. 

Finally, Kenoh made his rounds, observing the shop in full, much to the increasing annoyance and impatience of both of his partners. He slid the little panel on the door open, revealing a numbered keypad. “Do the honors?” he raised his eyebrows at Nakajima, gesturing at the panel as the man’s lips broke into his signature grin. 

Katsuhiko typed the codes into the keypad, Kenoh raising his eyebrows a little as he did so. The door unlocked with a small pop, allowing the man to slide the large steel door open, revealing a small room, a little bigger than a storage closet. 

Inside, there were various pictures and contracts. Perhaps valuable to the owner and whoever he was holding them for, but not to a set of thieves in the middle of the night. Kenoh eyed them over, looking over a few of the frames. “Sentimental…” he grumbled, more to himself than anyone. 

On a high shelf was a duffle bag, marked for sale on the day of the deal. The day that Nakajima had incorrectly told him. Kitamiya reached for it first, before Nakajima reached forward, practically lunging as he ripped it down from its perch and slung it over his shoulder. “Well, that’s that. The battery and blueprints are still in the backseat. Like I said, easy payday.” 

He stepped forward, finding Kenoh right in his path, expression entirely neutral, watching him. Nakajima smiled, almost bashfully. “Good work, boss,” he finally said, raising up his hand, almost tenderly as he moved to brush hair over Kenoh’s ear. 

Kenoh balked immediately, without enough room to move as Katsuhiko ripped the communication earpiece from his ear. Eyes growing with immediate realization, Kenoh lunged for the bag of money, only to be quickly sidestepped, Nakajima swiftly stepping on the earpiece as it tumbled to the ground. 

“You bastar-” Kenoh growled out, before realizing that the security alarm wasn’t the only thing that Nakajima had liberated from behind Sugiura’s counter. 

“Earpiece, Kitamiya. Now. Don’t say a word,” Nakajima kept the gun trained on Kenoh. Kitamiya growled as he took the earpiece out slowly, not taking his eyes off the conman for a second. 

However, before he placed it on the floor to get crushed, he held it to his mouth. “Guys we’ve been compromised. The code to the safe is tw-” 

Even with a silencer, Kitamiya was completely deafened by the shot. All air left his lungs as Kenoh screamed. The bullet rocketed point blank into his leg, forcing him to the ground. There wasn’t a hint of a smile on Nakajima’s face. Blood leaked out from under the navy blue suit as Kenoh shouted obscenity after obscenity. 

“Earpiece, cell phone, car keys,” Nakajima said again, this time with the gun pointed towards Kitamiya himself. “Unless you want to drive me out of here and leave him for dead. But unfortunately, I don’t think you do.” The plan had been to take the crew after leaving Kenoh in the safe, Nakajima sighed to himself. Tell them that the plan went bad, that Sugiura set them up. But the Kongoh were too loyal, and Kenoh was too smart, despite all outward appearances. 

He truly had nothing left here. The most he could do was take the money, cut his losses, and run. 

Masa laid it all on the ground, and Katsuhiko stepped over Kenoh carelessly, knocking his foot into his stomach while he did so. “ _ You fucking piece of shit _ ,” Kenoh managed to his, his face red and contorted, grabbing for his own cell phone, hands shaking in unmistakable pain. 

Nakajima plucked it from him easily, before Kenoh could even begin to make a call for help. He took out the battery of both phones, pocketing them and leaving the empty shells. He was running out of time, he realized. The police were still sniffing out their trail, and Sugiura would easily be back before morning. 

And not to mention, there was likely still one more person out there, hunting him down. 

Katsuhiko paused, standing up straight after a moment and positioning his gun once again at Kitamiya, stopping the bigger man in his tracks. He glanced at Kenoh, writhing and hissing on the ground, as pathetic as they come. “You didn’t have to make me do that to him.” 

He backed up to the door, opening it carefully, just enough to squeeze out of. Kitamiya started to move forward, perhaps to charge him against the steel door. But Kenoh grabbed his partner’s ankle, looking up at him quietly. Quiet for the first time all night. Katsuhiko thought about finishing the job, right then and there. 

He closed his eyes, shaking his head of the thought. And just like that, he turned his body so he could slip out, shutting the door behind him, leaving the last attachments he had to this city behind. 

He wiped down the gun and left it at the counter, heading out to the unlocked getaway car in the dead of night. Completely alone. 

\---

There was a car blocking the bridge on the waterside, just before the train tracks where they had shaken off Kiyomiya and his unit. In any normal situation, Nakajima would have cut the lights and turned the car around, finding another way out without taking major roads. 

But there was a man leaning against the car door, a scarf and winter coat pulled over his tan suit pants and turtleneck. He was still wearing his glasses, the street lights catching on them so that Katsuhiko couldn’t quite make out the expression on his face. He felt his hands tense up, like each joint was locking against the wheel. He looked around each bush and each piece of fencing. There were no police or security vehicles to be seen. They were alone. 

Nakajima climbed out of the car. 

“I just want the blueprints. I don’t care about the rest.” Shiozaki stated, his voice loud and clear. Nakajima tried to take a step closer, if only to see the look in his eyes. To see if Shiozaki had truly taken off running to follow them, or if he had wasted even a moment to cry over him. Before he could get close enough, Shiozaki raised his hand to stop him. “The blueprints first, Kats-Nakajima.” 

“Come on, you don’t want to talk to me?” Katsuhiko smiled, hands up in the air, gun long forgotten. He didn’t want to be a killer. Not if he didn’t have to. Shiozaki had known that about him. He had known so much about him. More than he had let anyone see in years. Perhaps Shiozaki thought he knew all of him. Maybe a part of Nakajima wanted to let him. 

But he never knew the extent of Nakajima’s ambitions, the hunger that he had felt. The frustrations from sitting beside Shiozaki at every press conference, watching everyone eat from the palm of the other man’s hand. The knowledge that he would never have it all unless he let Shiozaki go. 

Kenoh said he had hungry eyes. He had thought maybe that was enough. But it wasn’t. 

“I don’t,” Shiozaki finally said, pushing himself off the car and walking towards Nakajima. He stopped before he was too close, still trying to keep that distance in the cold winter night, refusing to get close enough to feel his warmth again. “I spent too long trying to wonder why. I just want the blueprints that my company, my  _ family,  _ worked so hard to protect. Then you can turn and leave.” 

Nakajima relented. He could just get back into the car and go. But then Shiozaki would never stop chasing him. It would never be over. He wondered, for a single idle second, if he really wanted it to end. Then he pulled the handle on the backseat door, slamming that thought away with every other passing thought of the night. 

It was only then it occurred to him that the car had been unlocked when he entered it. And looking at the now completely empty backseat, devoid of the battery and the folder, he now realized what that meant. 

He bolted to the passenger’s seat, flinging the door open as he pulled out the duffle bag. He unzipped it, and unzipped the inner pocket within. A cold wind blew over the bridge, picking up the contents within. A few flyers from a local wrestling show spilled out, fluttering into the night. All the rest remained in the duffle, packed in tight, without a single cent in sight. 

Nakajima let the bag hit the gravel, pounding his fist against the door. Shiozaki picked up one of the flyers, looking at it with almost fond remembrance, of the things they talked about. The things they laughed about, just as the two of them, without a single title to their name. 

“So they played you like a fool too,” Shiozaki said, more calm than he probably felt, crumbling up the poster in his hand and pocketing it. “Just like you played me.” 

“Shut up.” 

“I will. Tell me the names of the people you were working with. I’ll find them myself,” Go said. Nakajima finally looked up at him, feeling cold and disgusting, the entire night finally wearing on him. He could finally see the man’s expression, through the curls that had fallen over Katsuhiko’s eyes. Go looked at him with nothing short of anger and pity. 

Nakajima felt his knuckles clench against the car door.

“Just tell me their names and I’ll let you go. I don’t need you anymore.” Shiozaki tried again, stepping even closer. Finally close enough to touch, but with more distance between them than ever before. 

“You can’t possibly believe that,” Nakajima tried, with a slick smile. Go just shook his head. 

It wasn’t over. It couldn’t be over. 

“Goodbye, Katsu-san,” Shiozaki smiled, realizing he wasn’t going to get anywhere like this. He walked back to the car, climbing into the passenger seat. His driver was waiting for him, to take him back to the land of warmth and light. A world where he would have given Nakajima Katsuhiko anything. But instead, Nakajima chose this path. A path where he was cold. And he was alone. And he was hungry. 

\---

“Jesus. Did you  _ dope him?”  _ Nioh asked as he helped Kitamiya pull Kenoh into the back of the Kongoh van, all tech shut off and closed for the night to make more room in the gutted interior. 

“God I wish. Would have been nice to shut him up while I dressed the wound.” Masa moved the man against the wall of the van and let Nioh look him over. Behind them, Haoh jumped in, sliding a duffle bag across the van floor, popping the prototype battery and folder full of blueprints on top of it. 

Haoh shut the door behind him wordlessly and Kitamiya looked up at Tadasuke, sitting behind the wheel, looking into the back seat. “That means he passed out, which is probably bad. So if there was any time to go for br-” 

“Yeah yeah got it,” Tadasuke took a long breath and turned back to face the road, abruptly putting the car into drive, tearing down the road as best he could. 

“He’s gonna be pissed you’re taking him to the doc,” Soya said idly, still turned around in the passenger seat to watch the three others fuss over their leader, who was now kicking and whining lowly. Nioh dabbed the sweat off his face, pushing his blonde hair off his forehead. It was probably better than looking at the road, where Tadasuke sped through regarding very few of the traffic signals. 

“He’d be pissed no matter what we do,” Haoh shrugged quietly, sliding back to open the duffle bag, checking to make sure all the money was inside. He was covered in dust, but otherwise no worse for wear. 

“Can’t believe that’s what Kenoh meant, about you climbing through vents,” Kitamiya mused, sparing a glance away from Kenoh to look over the money. The van took a sharp left, sending the duffle sliding. Haoh caught it by the handle, not wanting his hard work to escape for even a second. 

“All the codes he gave us were bogus. But the building layout was real,” Haoh sighed. He didn’t like his designation of being the smallest one. But it took people off guard, and it made it easy to hide in places, like car trunks and ventilation systems. It made it easy to switch things out in case things went south. They were only lucky Nakajima didn’t have time to check the contents before taking off. 

Tadasuke grunted as he took another turn, down an alleyway this time. “So what do we do next? After getting him patched up? We have to sell those damned cursed artifacts, right?” 

“Should you really be talking while driving like this?” Soya quipped, turning the hacker’s face to focus him on the road. “You sure you don’t want to take the wheel, Kitamiya?” 

By all estimations, it wasn’t much farther, to get to someone who could fix Kenoh up. “It’s Tadasuke’s damn car. And I’m fucking beat,” Kitamiya said with a sigh. “Not sure what we’re going to do with the blueprints. Selling isn’t our speciality.” 

“Hospital,” Kenoh grunted, eyes barely open as he tried to peel himself from the wall of the van. Nioh was quick to push him back down, grabbing a bottle of water to force him to drink. He smacked the bottle away, sending water flying. 

“Yeah. We’re getting you help soon,” Nioh then tried, holding back his light frustration at the finicky patient. “But you need to dri-” 

“No.  _ Fuck _ ,” Kenoh hissed, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back again. “The plans. Sell them to the medical field.  _ God  _ that bastard…shit…” he sagged his shoulders again, letting out a hiss of pain as he again fell silent, still barely awake, but hanging on as best as his own rage and determination would let him. 

Kenoh didn’t know if Shiozaki would ever have the power to get the plans in the hands of where he wanted them to go. In the end, businessmen were always tied to the strings of buyers. Nakajima had tried to cut those strings and found himself out in the cold. Kongoh lived without those chains. Kenoh made it a point to make sure they all could. 

“Well, we’ll cross that bridge after we get the boss rest,” Soya sighed. “Gonna have Kiyomiya sniffing up our ass for a few weeks. Gonna be a pain.” 

“Shiozaki too,” Haoh chipped in. He surely would want to find whoever helped Nakajima. 

“And you said that Sugiura guy was a piece of work. Gonna be real fun if he attaches the robbery to us,” Tadasuke said, possibly just to add some chatter to ease his own nerves behind the wheel. 

“Not to mention Nakajima himself might be looking for revenge,” Nioh added in, more as an afterthought than anything else. He had done all he could for Kenoh for the time being. The rest was up to the doctors. 

It was a lot to think about. Kenoh fell against the first warm body he could find, done caring about appearances and power struggles and mind games for the day. Kitamiya sighed, letting their leader rest on his shoulder. There was a lot still left for them all to deal with. “It’s going to suck,” Masa then agreed. “But we’ll follow him through it,” he nodded at Kenoh as they neared their destination, brushing his blonde hair from his face. “We always do.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Maybe I wrote this to give myself the Kongoh Betrayal Storyline that Nosawa refuses to. Who knows.


End file.
